No. I’m pretty certain he hates Edward as much as I do, after the six months of job-rejection-hell he put me through.
Well, I’m not going to grovel at Edward’s feet for a job. And Daddy’s girl or not, I refuse to give my father the satisfaction of saying “I told you so” with respect to me quitting the last one. It seems I’m in for rejection number thirty-one.
I take a few steps into the kitchen and stop, my lip curling as I fix Edward with a piercing glare. Here we go.
Chapter 2
ALICE
I stare at Edward for a moment, taking in the confusing scene I’ve just walked in on. First, the guy standing next to him is plating a dish while Edward preps the meat. Edward is usually more of a finisher than a prepper. Second, the dish the other guy is working on appears to be some sort of Tomahawk steak topped with fried chicken. Third, Edward’s hairstyle seems shorter and messier than his usual neat quiff. And strangest of all, my ex-boyfriend, who claimed he would never defile his body temple with a tattoo, seems to have inked his entire left arm and part of his right arm.
Ollie clears her throat. “Ahem. Chef?”
Edward turns toward us and a huge, infuriatingly sexy grin spreads across his face. “Oh, hey. I didn’t see you there,” he says in his deeply rich British accent.
I fight like hell to keep from rolling my eyes at his greeting. It’s so typical of Edward to make everyone feel invisible.
His eyes lock on my face and there’s a strange—but brief—moment of recognition before he says, “You’re here for the interview, right?”
I can’t help but cock an eyebrow at his question. He’s acting as if this is our first time meeting. Like we haven’t seen each other naked about a hundred times?
He chuckles and begins saying something, but I barely catch every other word over the roar inside my head.
“I’m sorry… You must be… I do look a lot…”
He wipes his hands on his apron as he walks toward me.
I take a step back, and my voice climbs a couple octaves as he extends his hand toward me. “Are you seriously trying to shake my hand?”
Edward laughs again, and the sound both confuses me and puts me on edge. Why does his laugh sound…off? Everything about him seems different. But other than the tattoos and the hairstyle, I can’t quite put my finger on it.
Maybe it’s the mischievous glint in his dark eyes. Something that used to make him look sinister now makes him look devious, almost playful.
Or maybe it’s not Edward who’s changed. Maybe it’s me.
Just as this thought crosses my mind, he opens his mouth again. “I’m Ethan,” he says, one dark eyebrow flicking upward as he awaits my reaction.
For a moment, I wonder what on earth could have compelled Edward to change his name and get a bunch of tattoos. Did our breakup cause him to have some sort of mental breakdown? An identity crisis?
But just as I’m beginning to feel sorry for him, I remember a critical piece of information.
Edward mentioned once or twice that he had a brother who still lived in England. But did he ever mention his brother’s name? He certainly never mentioned they were identical twins.
“You’re… You’re…” I can’t seem to say the word.
He nods. “Edward and I are twins.”
My heart pounds like a meat mallet against my chest. “You… You knew who I was when you agreed to this interview?”
“You mean, do I know what a brilliant sous chef you are?” he says, then gives a cute little shrug. “Of course. Everyone knows,” he replies. “But you’re not interviewing for the sous chef position.”
“Excuse me?” I blurt out.
He shakes his head. “No, no. You’re here for the hostess position, remember?”
His words are like a punch in the gut. I’m interviewing for a hostess position?
Wait a minute. No, that can’t be right. I specifically remember my dad saying the interview was for a sous chef position.
“What are you talking about?” I reply angrily as I glance around the kitchen at the rapt expressions. “Did you bring me here to humiliate me?”
He narrows his eyes at me. “I brought you here to offer you a job as a hostess at the hottest new restaurant in New York, with the potential of a promotion to sous chef in six months.”
I open my mouth to curse him, then stop myself when his words register in my mind. “Potential?” I sputter.
He chuckles. “A bit entitled, are we?”
“Excuse me!”
His use of the royal “we” reminds me so much of Edward it makes me want to tighten my fingers around his sexy neck.
Ethan’s smile disappears. “You came in here looking for a job after being out of work for, what, six months. After what you did to my brother—”
“What I did?”
“What you did to my brother—”
Letting out a loud huff, I spin around and make for the door. “I won’t stand here and listen to you gaslighting me. I got enough of that from your brother!”
I shove the swinging doors open. The two people working in the pastry kitchen are now staring at me. Rushing past them, I glance over my shoulder at the sound of the kitchen doors whooshing open behind me.
He’s following me.
“Are you seriously walking out of an interview after six months of unemployment?” he shouts as I push my way through another set of doors into the dining area.
“You’re very observant!” I shout back.
He jogs and quickly catches up to me. “Okay, okay. I reckon we may have gotten off on the wrong foot. Can we please discuss this calmly?”
I stop in the middle of the dining room, steps away from the enormous ladder I saw earlier. “Calmly? You insult me in front of thirty strangers and you want me to be
